


The Kiss Camera

by Sol_NullaDomus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: "Godammit Potter TALK to Me!", Eventual mpreg, Harry and Draco are both Professional Quidditch Players, Let's stop using last names, M/M, Mostly Fluff, There Will Be a Little Smut Running Around Here Somewhere ..., draco is taller than harry, the scene where Draco threw Harry's wand to him actually happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-13 00:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18021422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol_NullaDomus/pseuds/Sol_NullaDomus
Summary: The big screen at professional Quidditch games usually roams over the crowd during breaks, attracted to areas with the most energy. But at an important game between the Wimbourne Wasps and the Appleby Arrows, it catches something almost no one expects ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and leave comments! I like feedback 'cause it helps me get better.

**\- Draco POV -**

 

I smirk at the recently-vacated fireplace.

 

The Captain of the Appleby Arrows called to tell me the team’s Seeker position was open and offered it to me.

 

I accepted graciously, of course, and he left.

 

Beat that, Potter, I think smugly. His messy-haired head had been accepted into the Wimbourne Wasps before we even finished Eighth Year. Of course, Eighth Years weren’t allowed to play in the school Quidditch teams, but he still coached for Gryffindor. And, of course, there were scouts at nearly all his practices.

 

There weren’t any at Slytherin’s practices when I was coaching, but that’s fine.

 

I had gone to one of his games once, to mock him, but when I got there, I realised … there was nothing to mock that would even remotely make sense. The black-and-yellow striped robes of the Wasps, which should look ridiculous on him, hung well on him - very well, almost too well, so much better than they should - and he dodged Bludgers without even looking at them, caught the Snitch within about five minutes of the game; he’d tied his now shoulder-length hair into a messy man bun for the game and had even gotten rid of the glasses at some point, and he…he looked gorgeous.

 

Not that I would ever admit it.

 

My first practice with the Arrows is in two hours. I’ll be fitted for robes immediately after, which is, if I’m being completely honest, the part I’m most excited for.

 

The Appleby Arrows have the best uniforms in the whole of the United Kingdom. Pale blue robes with a silver arrow emblazoned below the player’s name on the back; I do believe they’ll look wonderfully fetching on me.

 

For now, though, I’m off to write Pans and tell her I finally have a job.

  
  


**\- Harry POV -**

 

I raise my eyebrows at the letter I’ve just received from my Quidditch Captain, tearing off a bit of toast. 

 

He says Malfoy’s apparently been doing well in the Appleby Arrows’ practices. He was recently accepted as their new Seeker, but that little tidbit hasn’t been in the Prophet yet, so I assume they’re trying to keep it fairly secret to hype up the crowd at their next game.

 

My Captain’s included a picture, too, seemingly as evidence of how good he is, and -

 

I gasp as Malfoy dives through the picture for the Snitch, nearly perpendicular to the ground, and pulls up at the very last second, the tiny golden ball clutched in his fingers. A breath I hadn’t realised I was holding puffs through my lips. As though he heard me, the picture-Malfoy turns and smirks at me.

 

The colours of the Appleby Arrows suit him, I think.

 

Then I realise what I’ve just thought. Goddammit, I thought that went away after Eighth Year!

 

Luckily, Hermione’s head pops into my fireplace at just that moment, sparing me from having to think about that just now.

 

“Hullo, ‘Mione,” I say, setting down the letter and the picture on the table beside me.

 

“Harry, guess what?”

 

“... What?”

 

“Guess!”

 

“Ermm…” I think, slightly confused as to how anyone can be this exuberant this early in the morning. I’m only part way through my second cup of coffee. “I don’t know. Tell me.”

 

“I’m pregnant!” she squeals.

 

“Really? That’s great!” Ron and Hermione have been married for just over a year, now, and I’ve not said anything, but I’m quietly jealous of their successful relationship. Ginny and I never got back together after Voldemort was defeated, agreeing to just be friends.

 

She still doesn’t know the real reason I broke up with her in the first place, though.

 

Hermione nods. “Ron and I want you to be the godfather, Harry. I know you already have Teddy to look after oftentimes, but you’re so good with him that we think you can handle another. Besides, this one will only be with you occasionally; it’ll have living parents, too.”

 

We both sober up at the memory of Tonks and Lupin.

 

“All right,” I say. “Good for you, ‘Mione. Rest up while you can, and tell Ron I said so, too.”

 

“Good-bye, Harry!” she replies, a smile again on her face, and disappears into the fire.

 

A quick Tempus tells me it’s nearly time for practice, so I finish up my toast, gulp down the remnants of my coffee (now gone cold) with a grimace, and Disapparate.

  
  


**\- Draco POV -**

 

I file into the locker room after practice feeling sweaty and exhausted. I take a quick look around to make sure everyone else is otherwise occupied before shucking off my disgusting robes and changing as fast as I can into the clean ones I brought with me.

 

So I may be a little self-conscious. Big deal.

 

I finish changing, gather my things, and head out. I nearly stop short at the sight of the man leaning against the wall by the locker room, watching amusedly as a three- or four-year-old little boy toddles around in front of him, seemingly very involved in…something. I watch as the boy’s hair turns from a straight brown to a wildly curly turquoise and realise this must be Nymphadora Tonks’ son. My cousin.

 

The man (I refuse to think his name, it can’t be who I think it is anyway) calls, “Careful, Teddy.” The boy’s just almost fallen, but he seems fine.

 

I study the man, who hasn’t noticed me in the doorway yet. I can only see him in profile, and he’s standing in a shadow, but… Unruly, curly hair has been wrangled into a knot at the nape of his neck, and I can see a few rogue curls against the dark tan of his skin; he’s wearing Muggle clothes: blue jeans that hug his ass wonderfully and a plain white t-shirt that accentuates the layer of muscle under his skin and complements his darker skin.

 

Then he tilts his head slightly and the eyes that haunted me all through our school years catch the light, emerald green and dazzling as they always have been.

 

And they’ve caught me staring. “Malfoy,” he nods to me.

 

I can deny it no longer. “Potter,” I mutter. My cheeks feel warm. I hope I’m not blushing.

 

Maybe sensing my discomfort, he just smiles slightly and turns back to Teddy. “Good job today,” he says lightly. “Your dives were flawless.”

 

“Thanks,” I say, still uncomfortable.

 

Potter looks at me again, eyebrows high. “Was I just thanked by a Malfoy?” His eyes sparkle with mischief, teasing.

 

I roll my eyes and drawl, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The Muggle saying feels oddly appropriate in this situation.

 

“Click,” he grins, miming a camera.

 

I just shake my head, fighting laughter.

 

Teddy wanders over and reaches for Har - Potter, who picks him up and sets him on his hip. “Who’s that?” he whispers loudly, pointing to me. I startle at the realisation that my own cousin has no idea who I am.

 

“That, Teddy,” he replies, “is Draco Malfoy. You remember the story I told you about how I met Uncle Ron?” Teddy nods. “Well, if I had walked into Draco’s compartment instead of Ron’s that day … let’s just say that all of our lives would likely be very different.”

 

That it would. But I can’t help but wonder, “In what ways, Potter? How would life be different?”

 

“Well, you would likely be my best friend instead of Ron,” he started, “and I’d probably be a Slytherin instead of a Goody Two-Shoes Gryffindor. Who knows, Sixth Year …” he trails off, staring at the line where the wall of the locker room meets the ground but not really seeing it.

 

I know how he feels.

 

“Sixth Year would have been so incredibly different,” I finish quietly.

 

“Well,” Potter says suddenly, knocking me out of my reverie, “I should probably get going. Ron and Hermione have invited Teddy and me over for dinner in celebration of her pregnancy.” He chuckles harshly and mutters, “Not that I’m not over to their house at least twice a week anyway.

 

“See you around, Malfoy,” he says, that slight darkness gone from his voice but lingering in his eyes. “The Wasps’ll be your first match as Seeker for the Arrows; good luck.” And with that, he clutches Teddy (who had taken to playing with the stray strands of Potter’s hair while we talked) tightly and turns on the spot, Disapparating to (presumably) the Granger-Weasley house.

 

I stare at the spot he just was for a moment before shaking myself and Disapparating back to the small but comfortable flat I bought after the War.

  
  


**\- Harry POV -**

 

My thoughts spin faster than the whirlwind that is Apparition.

 

Was that a hint of a suppressed smile at my “camera”? What did he think I meant when I trailed off at the thought of Sixth Year? And he actually thanked me for the compliment!

 

I’m so distracted that I almost fall when we land in the middle of Hermione’s kitchen. Luckily, I manage to catch both myself and Teddy before we crash to the floor.

 

Not so luckily, we’ve startled Hermione, and she’s upset a pot of stew all over herself.

 

She shoots me a scathing glare and casts a quick Scourgify on herself and the floor. “You’re lucky that was already cooled and only took about five minutes.”

 

“How’d you make that whole pot of stew in five minutes?” I ask.

 

She gives me a very impatient, very Hermione look and waves her wand at my face. Flatly, her answer is, “Magic.” Indeed, with a jab of her wand at the pot, there’s instantly something brown and bubbly in it that smells much more delicious than it sounds or looks.

 

“Hiya, Harry,” Ron says, striding into the kitchen and grinning.

 

“Ron,” I smile before setting Teddy down and pulling him in for a brotherly hug.

 

We talk and drink (well, Ron and I do) and laugh for a long while, but when Teddy starts to yawn, it’s time to get going.

 

Just before I’m about to Disapparate, Teddy again on my hip, Hermione grabs my arm. “Harry,” she says, “you’ve been distant all evening. Did something happen?”

 

The encounter with Dra - Malfoy flashes through my mind, but I have a feeling she won’t like that as an excuse; she thinks I’m over it, too, and Ron never knew. “No,” I say, forcing a smile. “Just tired, I think.”

 

She looks me over suspiciously but lets me go.

 

The second I’ve put Teddy down for bed, though, her otter Patronus appears and says in her voice, “I know something happened, Harry. You’re a terrible liar. I’ll understand if you don’t want Ron to know, but meet me tomorrow in Diagon Alley. We can talk.”

 

I sigh, defeated, and send my own Patronus back, saying simply, “Fine.”

 

Tomorrow certainly will be interesting.

 

As I said, she thinks I’m as over it as I thought I was this morning.

 

Apparently, I’m not.

 

I’m as head-over-heels for Draco Malfoy as I ever was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry start to figure a couple of things out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun, friends.

**\- Draco POV -**

 

“Oi, Malfoy!” my Captain calls. “You have a spectator. Again.”

 

Confused, I look around the stands. Sure enough, there’s Potter, his emerald eyes trained on me.

 

Flying over, I say, “What are you doing here?”

 

“The same thing I was doing yesterday,” he replies. “Scouting you out.” Before I can ask, he continues, “My Captain gave me the week off of practice to watch you. He seems to think you’ll be a threat.”

 

“And what do you think?”

 

“What, do I think you’ll be a threat?” I nod. He snorts, sarcastically gesturing to himself (how he makes a hand motion sarcastic, I have no idea, but he does), “Youngest Seeker in a century without ever having ridden a broom in my life before then, remember? And I’ve done nothing but practice since then. I think I’ll be okay.”

 

I’ve never seen sarcasm from the Boy Who Lived before, and I don’t know how to react.

 

“Where’s Teddy today?” I ask after a moment of half-awkward silence.

 

“Ron and Hermione have him. I’ll get him later; Hermione wants to ‘talk’.” He gives another little snort and mutters, “More like she’ll interrogate me until she finds out what she wants to know.”

 

“And what does Granger want to know this time?”

 

“One, it’s Granger-Weasley now, for both of them. And two,” he grows quiet and looks away from me, “she wants to know if I still have feelings for someone I probably shouldn’t anymore.”

 

“Do you?” I ask before fully thinking through what I want to know. “Have feelings for that person, I mean.”

 

He hesitates, then looks me straight in the eye. “I believe I do, yes.”

 

My heart sinks, and I don’t know why, but then Potter is surging forward and pressing his lips to mine. I hadn’t realised how close I’d drifted to his seat.

 

As quick as it started, it’s over. He straightens his robes and says, avoiding my eyes, “Have a good rest of your practice, Malfoy.”

 

Before I can say, “Wait!” he’s turning and Disapparating with a loud  _ crack _ . Gone.

 

I sigh and rejoin the practice. Maybe if I beat his ass in our game, he’ll tell me what the fuck that was.

 

Perhaps he’ll even kiss me again.

 

I only get my head fully back in the game when a Bludger very narrowly misses it. For now, Har - Potter and his confounding kiss are relegated to the back of my mind.

  
  


**\- Harry POV -**

 

This time, I’m so distracted by thoughts of Dra - Malfoy that I land in Diagon Alley instead of in the Leaky Cauldron; I had meant to stop for a drink instead of meeting Hermione immediately.

 

I sigh. It would take too long now. I’d told her I’d meet her five minutes from now, and it would take too long now to go back to the Leaky and still meet her at Florean Fortescue’s in time.

 

I walk along the winding cobblestones of Diagon Alley, my hands stuffed in my jeans pockets, again lost in thought and enjoying the warmth of early autumn.

 

Too soon, I reach Florean’s and have to tug myself out into the world. “Hey, Hermione,” I say when I see her with a sundae and, of course, a book. Teddy is sat next to her with a banana split that will likely keep him up all night.

 

I grab the third chair at their little wrought-iron table and swing it around, sitting on it backwards and brooding.

 

I guess my attempt to pull myself out of my head didn’t fully work.

 

Hermione calmly closes her book and sets it on the table. “Talk,” she demands.

 

I groan and put my head on my arms, crossed over the back of the chair. “I’ve done something I shouldn't have.” The words are muffled, but not so much that she can’t understand them.

 

“Well, you always have,” she replies rationally. “What was it this time?”

 

I pick my head back up. “You remember that … obsession I had with Draco Malfoy through most of school and especially in Sixth Year?” She nods. “And in Sixth Year, I realised it wasn’t a nemesis-type obsession, right?” She nods again, slightly more hesitantly this time. “And then I thought it stopped after the War. It didn’t. I got my Captain to let me off practise for the week on the pretence of wanting to gauge Malfoy’s skill, but what I actually wanted to do was just … watch him. The way he flies … ” I trail off, blushing. I clear my throat, “Anyway, I’m definitely  _ not _ over it.”

 

I don’t know when her eyes got so wide, but they are now. They suddenly narrow and she mutters, “Of course it would be something like this.”

 

I stare at her in confusion. “What,” I say flatly.

 

“You had such little romantic trouble all through school,” she exclaims. “You had little crushes, of course, every teenage boy does, but your main focus was always on your ‘rivalry’ with Malfoy and on defeating Voldemort.”

 

“Actually,” I say as she sighs, looking off to the side, “I never had crushes. The only two that could even be considered anything like that were Ginny and Cho, and I felt protective-sibling-type stuff towards them, not ‘I want to date you’ or anything. Malfoy was the only one I ever had romantic feelings towards.”

 

She scowled, still looking at the other side of the street. “Yes. And up until Sixth Year, you did nothing but bicker with him and insult him. You never even hinted at feelings for him.” The glare intensifies and turns to me, “Why? What changed in Sixth Year?”

 

“Nothing changed,” I say. “I just … came to a realisation.”

 

She sighs. “Okay. But what does this have to do with your distance yesterday?”

 

“Erm,” I mutter. I swallow my fear and tell her about the picture the Captain sent, my subsequent begging of him to go “scout Malfoy out”, and every interaction I’ve had with him since then. Including the kiss.

 

By the time I’m done, she’s staring at me with wide eyes and her mouth open.

 

“... ‘Mione?” I ask hesitantly.

 

She sits there, totally silent, for another moment before suddenly screeching, “YOU KISSED HIM AND THEN JUST  _ LEFT _ ??”

 

I cringe and look around. Luckily, there aren’t many people out and about in midafternoon on a Thursday. “Erm, yeah, I didn’t want to be late to meet you and Teddy.”

 

“Harry James Potter,” she says, voice trembling with barely-restrained rage, so Molly-Weasley-esque I can almost see the orange hair, “you go back there right now! Don’t think I don’t know how jealous you are of all the relationships your friends and family have, because I do. This is your chance to have one! Now  _ go! _ I’ll watch Teddy for a while longer, get out of here!”

 

_ She really is scary when she’s on the warpath _ , I think, hurriedly Disapparating back to the Arrows’ Quidditch pitch.

  
  


**\- Draco POV -**

 

I linger in the locker room a bit longer than usual, thinking.

 

Why the fuck did Potter  _ kiss _ me? Why did I actually  _ like _ it? Was … could I … could I possibly be the person he was talking about, the person he still has feelings for even though he claims he probably shouldn’t?

 

“Malfoy,” my Captain calls from the door of the locker room. “I want to get home, so finish up.”

 

I’m not sure I like the gleam in his eye, but I gather my Quidditch robes and my broom, shrink them, stuff them in the pocket of the spare robes I brought.

 

“Shit,” I mutter when I see him leaning against the wall. He’s in the same position as he was yesterday, gnawing on the inside of his lower lip and staring at nothing in particular but with no Teddy in sight. “Potter,” I say in greeting.

 

A swarm of butterflies has suddenly taken up residence in my stomach for no apparent reason.

 

His head swivels toward me in surprise but then he relaxes and nods. He holds my gaze for several silent moments before my eyes drop, a blush flaming my cheeks. He looks back to whatever nothing he was watching earlier and says softly, “You … you were who I was talking about. Earlier, I mean. Before I - ” He breaks off, ducking his head. He takes a moment to compose himself and continues even quieter, “Before I kissed you.”

 

I open my mouth to say something. Then I close it again. That happens a few more times before I give up and just stare at him in confusion.

 

“I … obsessed over you all through our seven years at Hogwarts together. It was in Sixth Year that I realised I didn’t hate you. I was … ” He sighs and admits, “I had a crush on you about the size of Jupiter.”

 

When I still can’t seem to speak, he says, “During the Battle of Hogwarts … when everyone thought I was dead … I saw you trying not to cry. That was when I rolled out of Hagrid’s grip … and then I stood up and everyone was so stunned … and then you yelled, ‘Potter!’ and tossed my wand to me. … I think that was when I really started falling for you.” He looks at me, something in his eyes that ignites a fire in my belly. “And with all the returning Eighth Years staying in one dorm, it was certainly hell to have you not knowing.”

 

I still can’t find any words.

 

“This was stupid,” he mutters, his gaze downcast again. “I should go.”

 

He turns, but I grab his wrist, finally finding my voice, “Wait!” His head whips back around, hope filling those emerald orbs. “You never asked … how I feel.” And I press my lips to his.

  
  


**\- Harry POV -**

 

The feel of his lips on mine is exquisite. I swipe my tongue along his lips, a plea for entrance that he answers immediately. My tongue invades his mouth, plundering and ravishing. I back him against the wall and he moans into my mouth.

 

Seemingly recovering from the shock, he begins a battle for dominance, our tongues crashing together. I push him more firmly against the wall, hands gripping his hips. He moans again and breaks apart for air. Before long, though, his pale hands slide around my neck, tangling in my curly hair, and he pulls me close again.

 

We snog for a solid fifteen minutes before I break away and grin, panting heavily. “That was fun,” I say, voice husky.

 

Draco Malfoy, normally so put together, is flushed; his hair is ruffled out of place and his lips are kiss-bruised. He looks so incredibly ravishable that I almost attack his lips again. He breathes, “Yeah.”

 

“Perhaps we should do it again sometime,” I whisper, nibbling at his ear.

 

He nods, then moans as I gently bite his neck. I grin against his skin and set to work creating a hickey. “I’ll pick you up Friday at seven, yeah?” I murmur when I’m done.

 

“Yeah,” he replies breathily.

 

Stepping back, I say, “Good. I’ll see you then.” I smile just for him and Disapparate to the Granger-Weasley household.

 

“Hermione, you’ll never believe this,” I say when I land in their kitchen, but I blush when I find them snogging as passionately as Draco and I had been moments ago. “Erm,” I mutter.

 

She breaks from Ron, cheeks flushed, “Believe what?”

 

Ron looks at me. “Er, why d’you look like you’ve been kissing someone, mate?”

 

Hermione gasps. “Because he has been, Ronald, obviously,” she snaps at her husband. Then she asks me, rapid-fire, “So how was it? Is he a good kisser? What did you say to him? Are you boyfriends now? Tell me!”

 

“Merlin, ‘Mione,” I laugh. “Slow down.”

 

She takes a breath and says, more slowly, “Well? Are you going to answer my questions?”

 

I smile and say, just as quick as she had been, “It was bloody amazing, of course he’s a great kisser, I told him,” I pause and glance at Ron, “I’ll tell you later, and no, but we’re going on a date on Friday.”

 

She blinks a couple of times then squeals and throws herself at me. “I knew it, I knew it, I  _ knew it _ !” she says, arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. She extracts herself and says formally, “Well done, Harry. You finally got your boy.” She then bursts into a fit of giggles.

 

I laugh a little with her, but then Ron says, “Who the fuck are we talking about and why was Harry kissing a boy?”

 

“Er,” I say awkwardly. “I’m gay, Ron.”

 

“What?” his eyes widen. “But you had that huge crush on Ginny! And that other one on the Ravenclaw Seeker in Fourth and Fifth Year!”

 

I shake my head at him. “I felt like a protective brother to them. It was nothing like what I feel for Dr - this guy.” I wince internally. Ron’s finding out that the guy I was kissing was Draco Malfoy would not have gone well.

 

His eyes narrow. “For who? What guy?”

 

I shake my head at him again.

 

“Sorry, Ronald,” Hermione comes to my rescue. “Harry isn’t ready to tell you who it is yet. He will when he is, though, right Harry?” She turns to me.

 

I nod. “Are you guys okay with Teddy for the rest of tonight? I have a feeling he’s asleep,” I smirk a little, “and I can pick him up in the morning. I’m still off practice for the rest of the week and have.”

 

They agree to watch him until tomorrow, and I Apparate home.

 

As I drift off to sleep, my thoughts are of grey eyes and platinum hair, pale skin flushed pink and slender fingers in my hair; I fall into the realm of Morpheus with a smile on my face.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm working on more, though, I promise!
> 
> (except I'm not like ... ACTUALLY sorry ... hehe)


End file.
